O, Massacred Angel
by Sweetly-Sadistic's-Romanticide
Summary: Based on the story by Mrs. Shelley, the creature escapes the hovel that destroyed his prayers and forages in the new world. Snows fall deep and he finds refuge in a widow and a hearth. But, who is the true angel in this tale?
1. Chapter 1

_How I wished I could voice the utter agony and confusion of my newly born soul. How I wished I had the ability to cry out the very immensity of the anger and desperation that raked my mind and heart. The mute instrument of my mouth confounds and frustrates me deeply. I know what it is I feel and yet I am trapped in my resounding brain. The barren trees raced by as I stumbled further and further from that hovel in which I hid for the better part of the year; away from the hatred on those villagers' faces and the loathing in their shouting throats. The cold froze my muscles as they bunched in my legs, carrying me further away. The longing in my soul for their community and warmth changed quickly to broken rejection as I realized how they viewed me. Aye, their very contorted expressions of utter horror confirmed that I am not but a beast._

_The sun above disappeared beyond the arms of the dead trees, casting the snow laden world into a glow of sodden twilight. No sound of dogs and pursuit followed me now as I slowed, catching freezing air in my laboring lungs. There was not a noise but the wind moaning through the forest. Not a bird song broke the stillness of falling snow and my crunching steps. My hands were quickly freezing and it frightened me that I did not know what would happen if I was to get too cold. The emptiness of the world promised no pain beyond loneliness therefore I took it upon myself to tread deeper into the wilderness. Perhaps there I might learn my place in this hostile, terrifying world, hidden from the eyes of hateful men. _

_Anger flared in my borrowed heart as I thought of my creator, of his eyes that were triumphant and amazed only to turn into horrified loathing and fear. How could he have created me only to cast me into this purgatory alone? I am but a babe to this new place and have been left to fend for myself._

_Growling in inarticulate rage, I paused there, barely shod feet freezing in the wet snow, to ponder once again the circumstances of my birth and what I truly was. Am I indeed alive? True, I feel pain and pleasure but am I alive? Do I possess a soul as those people do who crowded around a Bible? And what fate am I destined to live out? A shudder of a fever raced up my spine. Perhaps this is a topic best reserved for less hazardous times._

_The night seeped into my grayish skin, chilling the blood in my veins. I knew I needed shelter somewhere and soon. If serious contemplation was put into the subject, it might've been better if I just lay down and died. Therefore, I did not contemplate it._

_No sufficient shelter was to be found as I wandered, huge arms wrapped about myself in a feeble attempt at warmth. Over the next hour, stumbling hopelessly in the deep winter dark, I found an ill-used road. At a glance, I saw a pair of wagon tracks imprinted in the snow heading west, away from Ingolstadt. Due to the little snow that covered the thin lines, I guessed that it must have passed by recently. Perhaps the wagon was heading to a town in the forest._

_Infinite wariness warred with desperation in me as I trod down the snowy road. Hunger stabbed in my gut like sharp blows and my lungs ached from inhaling the frozen air. To whom I am not sure but I prayed for warmth, even if it was temporary._


	2. Chapter 2

The wagon had barely pulled up in front of my home when the winds picked up and howled like demonic beasts in the night. The snow bit at my exposed skin as I climbed down, clutching the keys to my only estate. Pausing at the thought, I peered up at the dark windows and the empty rooms exposed by my lantern. With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation at my widowhood, I reflected on the poor living before me that I was left to.

It hadn't mattered to me those five years ago when we wedded that he was twenty years my senior. Now I regret the short time our lives had been graced with. I suppose I was both lucky and unlucky in the fortune of having no children. God knows, I couldn't have put them through this misery. Upon gazing at the two story cottage home, I found that I had indeed been spoiled in my marriage. Not even servants to help me in these harsh wilds.

Alrik had bought this and the surrounding land as a summer home away from Ingolstadt. After the funeral, they gave me this, this dark, lonely place to live. The only thing he ever left me…no, no, no more thoughts of that now. I could not bear the wrenching in my soul for the man I lost. With shaky fingers I pried the door open and stumbled into the musty coolness of the foundation.

Hurrying to bar the door against the snow, I felt a sigh of relief escape. Finally, after a day of travel I was here. The lantern threw sharp shadows on the sheet-covered furniture in the parlor and on the dust particles in the thick air. All else was darkness outside of my lamp.

After setting the lamp down on a dust coated table, I quickly scurried to light all candles available to me, illuminating the shadows. Despite my frozen fingers, a fire bloomed in the grating within moments, flooding warmth and light into the front room. I would sleep here tonight before this fire and reexamine the rest in the morning. Standing up and wiping my fingers upon the folds of my dress, I spotted an oval miniature upon the mantelpiece of Alrik. I felt my heart sink and a shiver from something other than cold run through me upon gazing at the tormenting image before me. My poor, dead Alrik. His dark brown hair streaked with silver even in his thirties. The heavy smile lines around his mouth and the crows feet by his light blue eyes did nothing to extinguish the playful generosity in his countenance. Never before had I known of a gentler man.

Briskly shaking myself free of such things, I reminded myself there were more important things at hand than remembering those gone, such as unloading my belongings and preparing a meager meal. Often in the tragedies of life I found that hard work was the soothing ointment for heartache. With the wind howling and the snow falling like daggers, it would be definite hard work.

_In short time, I found the wagon seated by a large house, much larger than any I had beheld before. Before I had witnessed only one or two room hovels that the villagers lived in and those had seemed like palaces to my naïve gaze. Shivering in the cold I carefully approached the one lighted window in the lower right hand side. Watchful to not reveal my presence, I peered in to the captive warmth. A lone woman was within warming her hands by a leaping, crackling fire._

_Remembering the pleasant sensations that fire induced, I longed to be with her by the blaze, warming my frozen form. For a few moments I watched her as she gazed about with a saddened, troubled air. Such a look graced the fair folk of the cottage I had stayed by when they spoke of their poverty. How on earth could she have worries of poverty when she lived in such a gargantuan home? Perhaps I am merely illiterate in these things._

_The young woman had thick, dark hair the color of acorns drawn up in a bun that reflected a red in the firelight. Only the men I have seen had that shade before and I found it delightful on her despite the worrisome creases between her gentle brows as she frowned. She was richly dressed in a blue bodice and skirts with a thick linen jacket wrapped about her frame. Never before had I seen anyone so extravagant and lovely. Fear made me wary of making my existence known due to my previous, violent and discouraging attempts._

_After a moment or two, the woman tied a scarf securely around her head and turned to go outside. Quickly, I sidled around the side of the house, peeking around just enough to see her. Bowing into the vicious, frigid wind, she trudged to the wagon and unloaded a large valise. With much difficulty she hefted it off the wagon's end and hobbled to the front door. It amazed me at how weak she seemed, slipping on the wooden steps of the house, vainly struggling with her luggage._

_Once she was inside, I moved to watch her drag it into the dark hallway, panting at the weight. I felt pity for the fragile-seeming woman. No one else seemed to be in the residence to assist her and I brightened at the opportunity. Perhaps persons alone are more reasonable and approachable than in groups. I felt I had to give it one more try at getting through to others before continuing my banishment to the furthest reaches of the world. It was a compelling force that made me both ecstatic and wary. The woman inside sat down to rub her white knuckles at the strain the luggage put on them._

_Quickly, I seized the opportunity, remembering how the cottagers had rejoiced at the small gifts I left them and sprang to motion. Running to the wagon before she had a chance to exit her residence, I snatched two of the cases, discovering them lighter than straw and deposited them on her front step, careful to be as silent as I was cautious. Within two trips I cleared out the back of the wagon, along with a curious case I couldn't identify. Fearfully, I went around the house yet again and waited for her to emerge. The noise of the door opening and the sound of her startled, surprised gasp rewarded my ears. Over the past few months I had grown accustomed to hearing and understanding the language of others and within time to speak it as well._

_"How on earth did this happen? Be there someone out there in the cold? Hello? Hello?" the woman's voice sounded lilting and lyrical to me on the wind, less accented than the cottagers and the Arabian. Did everyone in this world have such wondrous voices whereas I have but a croak? Silence ensued when I made no move to respond. I heard her shuffle in her luggage before returning to the frigid doorstep. "Sir or ma'am, which ever you might be, I plead you show yourself so I might repay you for your kindness."_

_I must confess that temptation won over me to an extent._

Upon my request, I heard not a thing from the darkness off my porch. As bewildered as I was and amazed, I found that such a thing was not due to some monster or beast like in the fairytales as some of my peers would have assumed. No superstition would hold sway over me. It t'was but a traveler perhaps that stopped and saw me struggle and took it upon himself to help a lone woman.

The cold chilled the back of my neck as the wind blew harshly there. Perhaps he had left. Turning to go back into the warm retreat of my new home, I heard a voice. Or what resembled a voice, I suppose, for it was rough, harsh and untrained.

"Please, do you have any food and shelter that I might have?" the bodiless voice replied tensely. Was the poor man afraid to face me in this horrid weather? Peering about in the thick veil of night, I tried to see the source.

"Indeed, good sir, I have both that are readily available. Might I see you so that in turn I can shelter you?" I inquired, crying out a bit loudly over the winter wind. Silence prevailed for a moment more. Befuddled and curious, I glanced to my left and spotted a form standing by the end of the house. He was a tall man, inanely so in fact, and he seemed to be dressed in naught but tatters. The face was well hidden under a low cowl from his coat.

"All I request is a haven from the night. Is there a warm place with straw that I might rest?" he asked in that deep, scratchy voice. Heavens above, he sounded as if he hadn't spoken in a decade and with such difficulty. I wondered why he preferred to sleep in the stables but swayed to his wishes than argue. If that was his choosing then I was more than willing to oblige to such a helpful person.

"Sir, if you go around the back there are stables that are out of the wind and warm. I shall bring you dinner accordingly," I instructed as gently as possible to the dark, featureless man that stood out of the lights direct range. A tiny, barely perceptible nod showed that he understood and with a fluidity and suppleness I wouldn't have credited to one his size, turned and left.

Pleased to have something to focus my weary, wandering attention on, I rushed inside to gather a loaf of sweet bread and a hefty chunk of cheese from the wheel I purchased. Along with it, I took a flagon of ice-cooled milk into a satchel along with a sheet from one of chaise chairs in the parlor. Right as I was rushing back out into the weather with my load, I realized quite acutely that my visitor's reluctance to show himself might indicate that he was no more than a highway man or a criminal. Despite the thought, I did not delay in bringing him his repast.

With a lantern, I raced to the stables, unsteady in the snow. The wind had calmed and allowed the flakes to drift in a timeless dance of grace and elegance. The tall, wood doors stood ajar, wafting the scent of dried hay and earth. Pushing first my light into the space, I sought to forewarn the stranger of my entry.

"Dear sir, I come to bring you food and cover. Might I enter?" I entreated softly, no longer hindered by the gale. After another moments pause in which a soft amazement issued, as if he did not expect me to come, he replied in the affirmative.

"Good lady, I bade you enter but I beg you to please not look upon me."

Surprised at the strange request I pushed into the warm barn, eyes averted to the hay strewn floor.

"I have brought bread, cheese and milk. May I ask why I cannot gaze upon my guest?" I asked politely, not wishing to press my curiousness on the man. Once again, he delayed in responding to my question. His apprehension and quiet fear puzzled me. "Are you a convict? Perhaps hiding from the law? I assure you I will not turn to any authorities. There be not a reason for it as far as I have perceived."

"Dear ma'am, I would not wish to frighten you with my deformed appearance. My countenance is not fit for a lady of such an abode," the stranger finally replied, his tone more soft but entreating. "I am no criminal nor have I committed any crimes to humankind."

"Are you to stay for but a night?"

"I must admit that I have no where to go beyond the wilderness," he admitted slowly. I brightened at the possibility of help and company, strange as it might be. I had no relatives nor friends in this part of country and the feeling that this life would be lonely would not abide.

"Stay at your leisure, good sir. I am no heartless being to cast you from the hearth to the cold. I entreat to stay as long as you desire whether in the stables or inside," I finished compliantly, setting down the satchel and the sheet at my feet. I dared not look up lest it frighten him off due to his one request being rebuked.

"I thank you greatly, darling lady, yet I could not encroach upon your step. In the morning, I will depart and no longer darken this place," he said in gentle denial. Nodding my head, I stepped back out the door, still not raising my gaze into the musty dark of the stables.

"If that be your wish. My offer remains should you change your mind."

"Perhaps, fair lady."


	3. Chapter 3

_After eating my repast of fresh, soft bread and untainted cheese, I lay back upon the piles of straw, the sheet thrown over my grotesquely large chest and pondered the unexpected yet delightful response I had received from the lady of the house. Was it meant to be fate's plan that I met the cottagers and met with a disaster before coming upon this? At the brink of losing all hope, I find myself longing to meet this angelic woman and to converse more with her. Mayhap this was a chance to come in good relations with others outside of my wretched existence._

_Gazing through the cleft in the ceiling where drifts of snow danced down, I felt a surge of possibilities I only dreamt of._

_Upon the morn, I awoke early to find a delicious, unknown smell coming through the air. Sitting up, I found the stable still solidly closed and yet on a sturdy, handmade stool was a platter of steaming food. Getting to my overlarge feet, I glanced about for the angel that had graced me with this abode and found her not there. Never before had I smelled the spicy heartiness of sausages and the tantalizing scent of porridge. As if never full, I attacked the breakfast with zeal, delighting in the gifts she had left specifically for me. Upon the stool under the plate, I discovered, was a pair of trousers and a large coarse shirt, all excessively large for an ordinary man. The lady must be clever to realize that I am in need of such requirements, I mused as I dressed. A gratitude and affection swelled in me where despair and rage had been at her simple kindness. Where had this sweetness been in the beginning of my existence? Why had my creator not been so considerate where a stranger was?_

_Such pondering led me to want to meet my benefactor immediately and thank her profusely in person. Careful to cover my hideous face with a hood, I stepped into the brilliant, grey light of day. I was blind for a moment before refocusing on the illuminated world around me. The forest clamored closely to the house, a scant ten yards from it, reaching with hungry hands to the sanctuary. No snow fell but the sky was heavy with thick, silver clouds promising more later on in the day._

_Encouraged by her gentle entreaties to stay, I went to the front of the estate, my heavy feet loud in the crisp snow. Immediately I found the lady of the house by the steps, sweeping dust from the inside out. Like the night previous, she seemed richly dressed, her long skirt a brilliant burgundy and her blouse a soft cream. I marveled at the sight of her dark brown hair pulled at the back of her neck. How lovely these normal people were and how elegant their voices._

_Upon hearing me approach, her quick blue eyes looked up to see me and an easy, welcoming smile bloomed on her reddened cheeks. It nearly hurt my heart to see such a benevolent smile directed at me. How often had I begged the fates for such a thing and was never granted?_

_"Good morrow, sir. Have you rested well?" the lady beseeched to me, her voice soft and confident in the light of day. The desire to face her gaze fully impelled me relentlessly to lower my hood yet I did not. I would not curse this blessing with my hideousness._

_"Well and happily, sweet lady. I thank you from the bottom of my soul with utmost gratitude. May I ask your name, good madam?" I replied carefully, trying to tone my rough, harsh voice to her lyrical one. Setting the broom against the wall, she picked up a thick, woolen throw and wrapped it over her small shoulders before stepping down to greet me._

_"I am Evangeline Sinclair of Wales. I came to live here just last night when you came to my doorstep," she replied graciously, giving just the smallest curtsy and incline of her head. I felt a flutter of excitement at being treated like a man. It was certainly enticing, these introductions and exchanged words. "May I ask the name of my guest?"_

_I paused in dread. I hadn't expected to say a name nor had I given myself one. I was 'I' and that was truly all I knew. After a moment of consideration, I decided on pure honesty as she had been so open and frank with me._

_"I do not have a name. I was never fortunate enough to be graced with one at my…birth," was my blunt reply. I watched her eyes widen in surprise and pity at that and her little red mouth pressed in thought._

_"What manner of parents had you that could not give you a name? Poor man, would you entreat with me into the warmth? I grow weary of work and would like someone to converse with," she offered kindly, indicating the welcoming house with its hearth. I desperately wanted to go inside with her and sit and talk like anyone else would. But I was so terribly afraid of her becoming frightened and fighting me off with her frail seeming hands. Upon her urging I allowed myself to be let inside._

_The place within was all polished wood in need of dusting and though she apologized for the state of things I found it to be the loveliest place on earth. The very walls gleamed a dark cherry like her hair and the furniture looked softer than the very clouds. How does one live in such a celestial home and apologize for it? It was inconceivable to me that people lived in such extravagance._

_"Please have a seat. I will fetch tea and bread," she offered, leading me into a room filled with the warmth of the fireplace and more beautiful furniture. Once she left down the hall to get the 'tea' whatever that might be, I settled down on the floor by the hearth. I could not imagine sitting on the red cushioned lounges or touching the gleaming tables with my filth._

_"Dear sir, why do you sit upon the floor? Please, here," Evangeline cried in surprise and humor as she walked in with a tray. Feeling suddenly foolish and out of my element, I scrambled to feet and stared at the floor in mild shame._

What an odd man to wander to my door! Setting down a tray I touched the arm of a rather dinghy chaise chair I was intending on disposing of. The man glanced at it, mutely, his features hidden by the long cowl before settling down cautiously in the seat. The light must have been too dim for me to see him properly before for now I found him to be giant in stature. To be sure, I hadn't met all peoples of the world so I attributed it to him being merely foreign to this land. What misfortunes must have befell him.

"Have you ever had tea before, sir?" I asked politely, trying to not sound insulting or degrading to whatever upbringing he had suffered. The cowl of his coat turned to look at me as he thought, tense and embarrassed seeming in his silence.

"No, good Evangeline, I am sorry to say that I do not know what 'tea' is," he answered slowly, tone low and unconsciously asking for some understanding. With a simple nod, I settled down across from him upon a settee and addressed the tray of cups and bread. Without a doubt, I felt his gaze upon me, pondering me, as I poured the herb tea into a porcelain cup. It was one of my mothers, tiny and fragile, made in Vienna and given to her in a set for her wedding. When she passed away four winters ago, father had graced me with them as her only daughter and the only one who would appreciate them. My brothers could never understand the beauty of the cups.

_Amazement shocked my compounded flesh as the small woman handed a brittle, thin cup of the most frail white into my large, clumsy paws. Before focusing on the tiny thing, I saw her clever eyes study my large, gnarled fingers and grey skin before nonchalantly looking to her own cup._

_Timidly with two brutish fingers, I carefully pinched the handle and brought the dark liquid under my cowl to my misshapen mouth. The smell touched me before anything else. It smelled of the wild forest in summer and of soft flesh. Nothing had smelt so wondrous and strange to me, not even the spicy meats I had barely started digesting._

_Conscious of her kindly, curious gaze, my lips touched the pristine rim and tasted the tea. When the hot, tingling pain of it bit into my unaccustomed tongue, I gasped at the sharpness and dropped the source. Why did it hurt? I had eaten warm food not a few minutes before but it hadn't hurt me._

_"Oh, no!" Evangeline's cry of sad disbelief brought my attention to her. The tiny crinkles appeared between her brows again and she sighed in disappointment. I did not realize the source of her dismay until I looked down. Upon the glistening, wetted floor were shattered slivers of porcelain, gleaming like pure milk in the light. I had broken it. I hadn't meant to._

_"Dear Evangeline, I am so ashamed of this. I had not meant to break the little cup!" I stated in a rush, terrified of her loathing at my clumsiness. With mild blue eyes she gazed up at me as I stood over the disaster and cast a small, understanding smile._

_"Please, calm yourself, my guest. It is all right. I was merely startled," she replied softly, apparently pleased with my reaction. Was this proper for normal people? To be relieved at someone's apology? Perhaps she is merely strange but I was thankful nether the less that she was still kindly to me._

How childlike he was, I found myself thinking, the cup now far from my mind. A wash of upset sadness had come over me for my mother's possession but at his ardent apologies I could find no ill will towards him.

Silently, I watched as he bent over the tiny pieces and began to pluck them up with his large, pale fingers. Normally, as a hostess I would have stopped him and cleaned it myself as is proper but for some reason I felt that he enjoyed his task. The strange man took his time, kneeling by me, his hulking mass harmless seeming as he cleaned up.

"Truly, I did not mean to damage your home and property. I shall take my leave," the saddened, gravelly voice brought me to my senses as he stood to walk out. A stab of lonely panic hurt my chest and I found myself standing by him before I could think of it. Placing a hand upon his gargantuan forearm, I felt his muscles bunching under the clothe in surprise at my touch. The form tightened in shock and I turned my gaze away from the darkness under the cowl.

"Please, do not leave on account of a silly little teacup. I do not wish to leave such pleasant company for the silence of the wild just yet," I pleaded quietly, not desiring the quiet of widowhood now. This was lonely, I could hardly bear the nights now from the sheer desperate hollowness my existence had adapted.

_My amazement could not have mounted anymore than it was at this moment. Despite the heavy jacket, I could feel her small, thin fingers pressed to my arm in entreaty. Barely ever had anyone touched me willingly and it made my pulse thrum in elation at her bravery. It might have been naivety that lent the courage since as of yet she had not seen my face._

_The shame I felt for the destroyed cup deflated to blatant curiosity and wonder at Evangeline. Taking a harsh swallow, I licked my dry lips._

_"Darling lady, may I ask you a question?" Dear god, how rough and harsh my croak of a voice was. It was a miracle that it in itself did not frighten her away. She nodded slightly, her troubled gaze still to my feet. Why did she not look at me? Had she seen part of my hideousness? No, that could not be the reasoning for she still lay her hand on my arm._

_"Yes, sir, you may."_

_"Why do you desire my company? Surely, there are more favorable persons for such a thing," I asked honestly, puzzled and longing to know what could press such an angel for my presence. Her little lips pressed and her brow knitted once more before she removed her fingers from me and gazed up. In the pure light from outside, her eyes were a deep blue like the baubles the Persian woman wore, bright yet clouded in sadness._

_"To be frank and open, my husband recently passed away and left me this estate and poverty. Beyond my home, I have nothing and pride alone keeps me from returning to my father's estate in Wales to live in luxury," Evangeline stated, her lyrical voice seeming tighter and harder than before to my ears. Had I upset her with my question? Noticing my fear somehow, she allowed a tiny smile before finishing. "This life will be lonely and I suppose I am merely clinging to any company there is. Truly, I do not mean to sound desperate and pleading. I am just mourning that communion with others I am used to."_

The guest stood in silence, giant hands clutched like claws over the tiny pieces of glass, the dark of his face looking at me. Shame flooded in me for my weakness and hope that he would stay a little longer. I hadn't even seen his face nor known his history and yet I wished for his company. A thought struck me then and I pondered the intelligence of asking him the preposterous proposition.

Swallowing to clear my throat, I cupped my hands under his to accept the celestial garbage, noting the tremble it induced in him. Was he so unaccustomed to human touch? Shakily, the cold, large hands opened and allowed the slivers to fall into my palms as I asked my question.

"Dear guest, you say that you have no where to go but the harsh wilderness, is that correct?" the question came slow and deliberate. The large man paused, watching me in stunned thought as I dumped the remains into my empty cup to dispose of later.

"No, I have not."

"Would you like to stay on as a groundskeeper for me? I have no means of paying you but it would mean shelter and company at least. Father sends a sum each month to help with food and supplies since I denied his hospitality and it is more than enough to feed two."

A ringing silence ensued, echoing through the large cottage as the stranger eyed me from under his cowl. It was a very unconventional thing I was requesting and improper for a widow but a stubborn pride welled in me. I did need the help and I was not above asking the poor man for assistance and his presence.

_Where was that clever and alluding wisdom when I required it? Her request, softly yet boldly spoken, threw me off my sensibilities and it was beyond my grasp now. Not to mention the shock of her touching my hands had yet to wear off. I wanted to stay, of course, and bask in the kindness she had graced me with and yet I was frightened of her discovering my appearance in time._

_What pains could come from this? Many, I suppose, but it would be of the same family as what I had already suffered. My options seemed but two: stay and learn whether kindness can be obtained from humans or leave into the wild and my despairing bitterness. The second choice would always be available in the end if she turned to hate me. At least I would have tried to earn her trust and care._

_Standing up a bit straighter, I bowed a little at the waist as I had seen the young men do before. From under my hood, I saw a pleased grin light her features and the sparkle come back to her eyes._

_"I would be pleased to stay and help you, lady Evangeline. Anything you require of me, ask and I shall do," the statement drew a flutter of confidence to me as I said it. Before I could react she took my left hand and held it between hers. It was a common thing, I had seen before, yet the intimacy of such a touch put me into a delirium of delight at her warm, small fingers._

_"Wonderful, dear sir," she paused in thought, still looking up to me, eyes thoughtful. "In no means to be rude, but I think we should find you a suitable name if you mean to stay long."_

_I considered this and found that I intensely enjoyed the thought of having a name like every other man out there. But I could not come upon one myself, having heard so very few._

_"What name would you call me by?"_

_"Gareth. It means gentle."_

_That stunned me for a moment but I found it pleasing._

_"Gareth…do you really believe me to be gentle?" I asked softly, my voice barely a rumble at the sweetness she gave. Evangeline smiled mildly, the ends of her red mouth curling up and nodded._

_"Very much so as well as humble. Do you favor the name Gareth?" she inquired, clearly hoping that I did._

_"Yes, I would be pleased to be called as such."_


	4. Chapter 4

"Pray you ignore the dust. We will get the room cleaned and furnished in a more likeable fashion later," I entreated as we stepped into the back left room of the house, the room I intended to give him. At first, Gareth had put up a reason to sleep in the stables and to keep out of sight of me. Being a stubborn woman, I pleaded with him until he accepted that I felt safer with a protector down the hall than in the shed.

"The dust cannot diminish the room, dear lady. It is more than I could ever ask for," Gareth replied thankfully as he ducked under the doorway into the space. Furnished with but one desk, one older bureau and a large bed, it certainly seemed spare to me. Two heavy paned windows faced the back of the property and the side away from Ingolstadt, allowing plenty of light for now.

"You will need more blankets as the winter progresses and a lamp. I think I have one in the cellar," I continued thoughtfully as I stripped the top sheet off the bed, uncovering thick woolen blankets and a down pillow. Luckily, there were no spider webs nor dust upon it as the desk and bureau had.

Gareth steps thudded up next to me and I looked down without thinking about it to realize that he had no shoes. Now that wouldn't do at all. Planting my hands on my hips like a mother, I made an evaluation of his clothes much to his dismay.

"Fortunately, I am accomplished at sowing and stitching therefore all we need is clothe."

"For what may I ask, lady Evangeline?" he asked cautiously, almost fearfully as he stood huddled into himself from my scrutiny. Immediately, I felt ashamed for inducing such a reaction from him and came closer to lay a hand on his arm.

"I merely wish to make you newer clothes. Yours simply do not seem adequate enough for these cold winters. And you need shoes," I paused to think about my husband's wardrobe. "I can make most of those from Alrik's-"

A stab of pain shot from my chest to my stomach and I removed my hand immediately. Alrik…I hadn't thought of him since last night. In all the excitement, I forgot the hollow pain of his loss. Was it wrong to not feel mourning only a few months after his death?

_Agitated worry crept up in my soul at the pained expression on the lady's fair face. What was troubling her so? Who was Alrik? Perhaps the deceased husband whom lived here previous? Whoever he was, he was causing such grief on the poor woman that the silent tears in her eyes could barely be contained. For a brief moment, I wondered whether those same blue eyes would well with emotion for me. How very silly of me to think such things._

_"Good lady, if making me clothes and shoes will be difficult, I plead you to not bother. I am content in my current garments," I reassured her timidly, not sure of how to comfort her. Blinking rapidly, she caught hold of herself and looked to me in embarrassed self-annoyance and wringed her hands together._

_"No, no, dear Gareth, it is nothing of the sort. I just had not thought of my departed husband in a while and it caught me off my guard. Excuse me for that."_

_When she walked lightly to the window by the desk and looked out with lost, soft eyes, I wanted nothing more than to soothe the agony she was quietly bearing. Of course, I knew what marriage was and that she must have loved the now dead man. I could barely think of harm coming to this angel now after knowing her for but a day. _

_Shuffling my large, awkward feet, I looked down, trying to fathom a compliment, an apology, something to help._

_"I am sad for your loss, Evangeline. It pains me to see you so agonized. If there is anything…anything I can…"_

_The words died in my throat when she looked back to me, face placid now and eyes depthless in thought. Slowly she nodded and forced a tiny smile before approaching._

_"Let's get some work done before nightfall."_

The day was quiet but comforting in its silence, I decided as I finished slicing the cured ham for our evening meal. Most of the hours, I had spent up in Alrik's room, reminiscing and saying farewell to the haunted memorabilia within it. Things of his were packed up except the essentials which I had given to Gareth such as razors for shaving, brushes, the like. Tomorrow I would sit down and sew him a coat, pants, shirts and devise a pair of boots. It was moments like this that I was grateful for the annoying classes I had been put through to become a more accomplished lady.

A creak upstairs alerted me that the guest was on his way down again. Darkness reigned outside once again and the snow fell gently, sure to cover all tracks by the morn. In the spare room, we had moved a large burnished tub from Alrik's room earlier on and I had instructed him on how to fill it. To a degree, it was amusing and sweet at how little he knew about how to do things.

"Good evening, Lady Evangeline," his rough, soft voice greeted from the hallway. Turning from the kitchen table, I saw his large form darkening the doorway, blocking the firelight from the parlor.

"Good evening, Gareth. Do you feel replenished from your bath?" I asked politely as I set out glasses and plates out for the meal. He paused awkwardly before shuffling into the kitchen lamp light. The hood was still pulled low over his face but the grime was off his hands and he smelled less wood-like.

"Yes, thank you. Would you like me to refill it for you?" he asked timidly as I pulled out a chair and bade him sit.

"No, no, not tonight. A good meal and a warm bed is all I am looking forward to. Would you like some wine with supper?"

_"Yes, please, ma'am," I replied cautiously as I picked up the metal glass for her to fill. Whether she chose those ones for supper because of the teacup I couldn't say but I was glad she did. Gently, she poured it to halfway full with this smooth, deep red liquid that smelled rich and exotic. Lifting it to my nose, I sniffed it softly, trying not to draw her attention. _

_"Gareth, wait until the food is served before drinking, please," Evangeline laughed a tender reprimand as she glided back to the table with a bowl. Hurriedly setting down the cup, I barely avoided spilling it on the white table cloth that adorned the surface. It was another custom I was not aware of. Drink only when the food is served._

_"My apologies."_

_She served a heavy ladle of some orange, sweet smelling yam to the plate in front of me before stopping to look at me curiously._

_"Have you had wine before, dear Gareth?" she asked gently, no sting or cruelty behind the question. Growing accustomed to answering such things, I meekly shook my head in the negative. A surprised, eager look dawned on her and she went to serve the ham and slices of bread._

_"This shall be an experience for you then. Wine is intoxicating after only a cup or so. Have you ever been intoxicated?" she questioned as she settled down and picked up her own glass. Following example, I grasped mine and shook my head. What was it like to be intoxicated? Was it a wise idea to become so now? _

_"I have not, my lady. It concerns me that I will not be appropriate after drinking wine," I explained in mild humiliation, lowering my gaze to my plate instead of her. _

_"I am not concerned. Believe me when I say we will drink but one bottle. That is two glasses each and will not render you silly," Evangeline continued to reassure before lifting her glass and holding it out over the table to me. Once again, I followed example and moved it next to hers at which she gently clinked them together. With a graceful movement she brought it to her pursed lips and sipped the bright red drink._

_Wary of the last time I had drunk something new, I brought it under my cowl to sip it. This time a rich, healthy flavor rolled over my taste buds, startling yet pleasing. Swishing the cold liquid about in my mouth, I felt it coat every inch before sliding down to my belly where it landed. Once there a great warmth spread up and out through my veins pleasantly. After a moment of surprise, I took another sip to the same results. Oh, yes, I did like this wine._

Restraining laughter during the meal, I watched Gareth as he enjoyed his meal and his wine liberally. Apparently, ham was something new to his taste as well though thoroughly enjoyed. Where on earth had he come from where he hadn't known the taste of wine? What sort of life was he living where he hadn't even had a name? Such questions antagonized me throughout supper but I could not bring them forth. He was clearly enjoying himself and I was not about to pepper it with questions.

What did he look like? I found myself wondering as I poured him a second glass of wine. Why did he keep his hood on at all times? Perhaps it was questions that were better left for when he had settled more comfortably in the home.

"Are you enjoying the affects of the wine?" I asked curiously as we sat after the meal in the parlor, sipping leftover drink. Gareth had settled in the large chaise by the fire, leaving me to choose the couch or settee. Sitting across from him again, I found that I could see just the bottom of his face by firelight.

"Yes, indeed, it makes quite a fine warmth in the veins," he replied lightly, clearly more relaxed than he had been this morning. Unobtrusively, I studied the small portion of his face that was revealed, startled but curious.

The skin was a pallid, gray color unlike any I'd seen before. That part was not strange now since I had seen the skin of his hands. The mouth was full and dark as of a person cold or dead, almost a gray-blue color. A scar ran from the right hand corner of it back into the darkness of the hood, splicing the flesh into a deep groove. Was he horribly scarred? Was that his shame?

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself."

_The deep, tingling warmth that had flooded my entire form made my brain swim and my focus waver pleasantly. So this was intoxication. It was increasingly enjoyable, especially with the way it loosened the tense muscles in my shoulders and back. No wonder that so many drank wine and it inspired the poets. _

_Dazedly, I finished off the deep drink and gazed out across to the angel, taking in her appearance. The firelight reflected a pale cream on her cheeks and the curve of her neck. The locks of acorn were pulled loosely into a bun atop her head, spilling in curls of red about her shoulders. The mahogany of her skirt was like her hair, dark and shimmering._

_My head was swimming; I could not look at her any longer without wanting to weep. She was saying something to me, a soft question but I found my focus unwilling to steady upon her._

_"M-My apologies. Pardon, ma'am?" I stammered, trying very hard to pay attention to her words. Ringing laughter answered me and I felt her hand upon my shoulder. The tingling that induced matched that of the wine as I looked up at her smiling countenance._

_"Let's get you to bed," she murmured laughingly, trying her hardest to haul my huge weight to my feet. Fumblingly, I stood, hand coming out to support my unsteady legs on the wall. Evangeline held my other arm bracingly as she helped me up the stairs, pleased with my inebriation. Once to my room, she scurried forward into the dark to light the lamp. Waveringly, I watched her move the woolen blankets back from the cloud-soft seeming bed. _

_"Thank you, my lady. I can get myself to bed from here," I pleaded, feeling vague embarrassment at needing her help. The angel smiled at me before leaving the room, biding me goodnight. Once the door closed, I stumbled noisily to the mattress, hot and unsteady. With fumbling hands I stripped off the shirt and trousers before falling into the soft oblivion of the bed. _

_Never before had I felt something so comfortable and plush like the down of a swan. Barely conscious from the heated wine and the bed, I managed to turn the lamp off with a lazy finger. Darkness swallowed me as sleep rushed up. _


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, my dear Gareth, I must say that I am getting better at sewing. These fit you nicely," I commented, pleased, as I knelt at his feet, pinching and pulling the trousers for looseness or weak stitches. He nodded silently, apparently beyond himself for words in thankfulness and discomfort. As always his hood was drawn low over his face, shadowing all but the very bottom of his chin. I prayed that he would ease himself around my presence with time and learn that there was no need to be afraid.

I gave him a quick smile and in that glance I was once again amazed and awed at his sheer size. Lord, he must have been at least seven feet tall with huge shoulders and a broad chest. The boots he shuffled in almost looked too small now that I looked at them again, I realized.

"Are you pleased?"

"Yes, lady. I wish there was a way to repay you for your gentle kindness," Gareth replied haltingly, voice low. As our conversations grew I found that I was at ease with his rough, harsh tone and silent, observant manner. It was refreshing after the long speeches and bravado of the men in court.

"You did repay me in full for cutting the firewood. I am ashamed to say that I am no good at such work," I replied consolingly before standing slowly. Brushing the dust off my blue skirts, I planted my hands on my hips and stared at his feet.

"Are the boots I fashioned too tight or small, Gareth?"

"No, not at all, my lady."

"Hmm, one of the button holes on the left are a bit too loose. Please, let me sow that one once more," I asked, determined to make these boots last at least through the winter. As soon as I could, I would buy him a decent pair in town on a shopping run. After a pause, Gareth leaned down slightly, lifting said leg and reaching for the shoe. With fumbling, pale fingers he plucked at the strings, trying to loosen them enough to remove.

Too late, I saw his balance pitch backwards, one large hand flailing to regain his center. With a cry of surprise, I attempted to grasp his jacket lapel. Fingers not strong enough, he slipped free and fell onto his back. The hood slid back from his face…

The skin was a pale gray, crinkled only a bit at the ends of his dark, startled eyes. Hair as black as a ravens wing fell messily on his shoulders, contrasting so sharply with the wicked scar that ran from his bluish, full lips back to the strong line of his jaw. Furrowed, thoughtful brows were raised in alarm at meeting my gaze as his face crumpled in an expression of horror.

Beautiful, he looked so beautiful to me.

_Oh, my beating heart in my chest could not have caught up with my racing mind. The fall hadn't hurt of course but the result scarred me so. She saw me! The angel had seen my disfigured, demon face! Would that I could steal time and reverse this accident._

_Evangeline's mouth had opened in surprise as I fell and now it had pressed in surprised thought, soft and amazing. She was not screaming as I had expected. Perhaps she was merely in such a state of shock that surely she could not react._

_Rolling to my side, I flung an arm over my disgraceful countenance and sighed a moan of disbelief. Why in all of God's cruelest tricks did this have to occur?_

_"Oh, dear lady Evangeline, please forgive this! Never did I wish for you to see my ugliness," I pleaded brokenly as all the hope at this friendship flew like the birds at winter. Silence met me and I feared the worst. Bracing myself to stand and remove myself forever from her presence, I choked on tears of despair._

_"Please forgive me, I-"_

_A gentle touch on my raised arm stopped the words in my throat. With her meek force, Evangeline grasped my thick wrist and moved my limb enough to peer at me. Kneeling on the floor by my side, she looked so tiny, her large, wondering blue eyes studying me. Her lips were dark in the lamplight as her brows furrowed and she offered a smile._

_"My dear Gareth, what ugliness do you speak of?" she asked curiously, her red mouth spreading in a comforting grin. My God, I must have blinded her if she could not see my horrendousness! Not wanting to hurt her further, I allowed the woman to lower my arm._

_"Mine, I speak of mine. I am ashamed that I was hiding the face of a beast from you."_

_The expression of kind reprimand melted into confusion and I braced myself. One last time, I studied her, burning the sight into memory of her acorn hair piled on her head, gracefully supported by her pale throat. Any moment her senses would return to her and I would be cast into the purgatory of the world._

"I see no beast here," I finally replied after watching the sad resignation steal over his face. I suppose I was still stunned at the sight of him and my realization that he was handsome despite the scars. It was not a conventional beauty to be sure but one of a lost angel, frozen in time and discarded by mortals.

Disbelief and awe spread over him and his dark, depthless eyes searched mine for something. Trembling at the revelation of my guest, I gathered my bravery and reached towards him. He flinched and I paused momentarily before proceeding. He grew so still I was sure that it was a statue that met my fingers.

His eyes restlessly stared at me in wonderment as I took the liberty of feeling his cheek, thumb running the length of his deep scar. A shudder coursed through Gareth and tears rimmed his lashes. Had he never been touched like this, I wondered. Poor man, how did he come to this?

"Gareth, why do you call yourself ugly? Why do you hide yourself away from my sight?" I whispered, trying hard not to scare him further. Brushing my fingertips over his chilly brow, I offered him a smile as his gaze focused once more. "There is no need, dear. You are by no means ugly."

"Madam, why deceive yourself? No man has looked upon me with anything other than disgust and hate," he sighed in almost a growl, turning his eyes from me. Stubbornly, I reached out and cupped his jaw in my palm. Turning him back to me, I felt the nagging yelling of my impropriety scream at my sensibilities. No, with him there was no need of such silly social disgraces.

"Look at me, Gareth. Am I a man?"

"Most certainly not."

"And do I seem disgusted or hateful? Have I ever exposed such to you?" I demanded persuasively. He paused at that, lips fumbling for something to say. Finally he shook his head in denial. At that I smiled and offered both my hands to help him stand.

_With her help, I got to my feet though the world rocked under them as if Atlas was sighing. She was still speaking to me in that kind way, still gazing at me as she did with my mask. There was no fear in her little heart as she clasped my cold hands and stood before me, peering up to me with a small, enduring smile._

_"Gentle and humble Gareth, I know not what life you led before fatefully meeting me but I can assure you that no monster nor beast stands before me. From your actions and words, I see that you are merely unfortunate and alone. There is no need for any shameful hiding in my home," Evangeline continued, her voice so soft and enduring that it broke my heart. Oh, I could not help the tears that streaked my cheeks nor the bursting pain in my heart at her words. This angel would destroy me with her kindness. She had not run screaming into the night…_

_My attention snapped back to her as her warm, tiny hand touched my cheek again affectionately. Smiling in approval, she gave me a stern, teasing look._

_"Now, no more hoods, dear Gareth. After seeing you, it would be strange to not do so each day. There is no ugliness in you and I will not listen to any such rubbish."_

_There was no restraint left in me to dam the tears I felt scalding my face. Ashamed of my weakness, I let my chin fall to my chest like a child refusing to ask for comfort. The lady made some sound of empathy before leading me to a chair. Setting me down with a commanding presence I was not aware she had, Evangeline took hold of the end of her apron and lifted my chin._

_I could hardly look at her shining countenance as she dabbed away the wet pieces of my soul, smiling all the while. Did she realize the precious gift she gave to me this night? Did she know how her tender touches tore pieces in my infant soul?_

_Regaining control once again, I watched her go about her chore, unwilling to stop her. She seemed pleased in it, in touching my face and soaking my tears under her fingers, brow smooth and lips turned at the ends._

_"Lady Evangeline, no one has ever given me such generous kindness. I do not know how to voice my gratitude and love for you and your acceptance. Not even the one who gave me life could bear to gaze upon me," I choked out, gaining strength as I continued, voice rough once again. She paused and searched me in contemplation, her brow creasing in sadness._

_"Poor man…poor Gareth, I feel such pain for the life you were graced with. The world is not fair and man is even less so. Do not worry for any such actions from me. I find you a pleasure to gaze upon," she replied seriously, her azure eyes clouding a little. I gave her a doubting look and she shrugged. "You are not hideous in any measure. Different, perhaps but not ugly."_

_Listening to the sound of her words, I found tears wanting to break forth once again. How long had I longed for such a soul to speak to me and commune with me as this? Once more I lowered my gaze, trying not to embarrass myself again. That was when the angel embraced me to her._

_My heart stopped beating for a moment as she cradled my head to her collar, tiny hands in my hair. She was holding me as a mother would to comfort her child, murmuring nonsensical sounds. Under her blouse, I could feel her own heart fluttering like a bird, wild and fast. After a stunned moment, I gingerly put my large arms around her fragile frame and brought her closer._

What possessed me now I could never say but I felt that if I did not help soothe his agony, I should perish. Never before have I seen such silent, undeserving suffering in a soul before and it hurt me. Holding him close, I felt the immense presence of his arms about my waist, hands together at my shoulder blades like cold wings. The entirety of his frame shook and trembled as if he would fall apart there and then in my hold.

"Oh, my poor soul, my dear Gareth…gentle, gentle Gareth, how long have you desired such an embrace?" I whispered out loud my thoughts, not ashamed to let him hear my sympathy. The hold he had tightened more, almost hurting me. He sighed heavily against my neck, faltering and warm. Never before had I felt such contentment in knowing I was assuaging the pain of another. Alrik had never shown such a need for comfort and relief as Gareth was now revealing and in a sense it made me feel all the more womanly.

The large fingers touching at my spine shifted briefly before he withdrew himself from my embrace. Leaning back from me, he looked at me, dark eyes gazing in a kind of sad amazement. So tall was he that even sitting he was almost the same height as I. It looked as though he was trying to suppress a smile and with some urging it came free. The teeth were white and perfect, not at all a beast's maw.

"My lady, forever am I your servant for the gentleness of your soul," he swore in a grave voice despite the grin he bore.

"I have no need of a servant. I do have need of a friend and companion however."

"That I shall do."


	6. Chapter 6

_In remembrance to the old man, I recalled a statement he had devoted to life's ebb and flow: 'Life is but a stream, flowing ever forward past time and memory.' Whether or not he had borrowed the phrase or merely concocted it, I do not know but the verse rang true for me in Evangeline's house. A month has already slipped past since she has taken me under her wing and it has felt like moments._

_My very soul seems to have swelled within me for the happiness she is inducing, lifting me from the bleak despair I was previously doomed to. The quick and easy smiles and the laughing care have become as ointment; a balm to the wounds the others' hatred had caused. O, God that listens above, what gift you have dropped upon me! What respite you have shown a twisted soul in the form of this fair angel. If only my creator had been born of such as her._

_"Gareth, are you listening?" a voice cut into my musings as I worked. Turning from the log I was about to split, my gaze met Evangeline's. Trudging through the deep snow, she put a hand to her bonnet to prevent it from flying free in the harsh wind._

_"My apologies, I was distracted. What can I do for you, sweet lady?" I replied happily, more than pleased at her sudden appearance. Would it always be such? I wondered. Would she come like a phantom to my very thought?_

_"On the morn, I will be needing to go into town for more food. Is there anything you can think of that we might need?" she asked, her voice still meek despite how she raised it against the gale. As I shook my head in answer, I reveled in the sensation of her gaze upon my face, at the lack of horror and disgust._

_Concernedly, I noticed the pallor of her cheeks and the weariness in her blue eyes as she curled into her petticoat for warmth. She was growing sick from the weather, I realized abruptly. In my stupidity, I had forgotten that she was so much smaller than I and more susceptible to the elements. This frozen air was no more bothersome to my sluggish lungs than the springs warm breath._

_"My lady, you should not be outside in this storm. Allow me to lead you in," I offered immediately, trying to cover my self-annoyance at my thoughtlessness. Evangeline smiled sweetly at me despite her chattering lips and nodded._

Trying vainly to ignore the chilled, biting skin of my calves, I allowed him to come next to me and offer his huge arm as guidance. In the last few weeks he had grown so much more languid and comfortable in the movements of a gentleman. If he were ever to change, I wouldn't be able to differentiate him from a man of court. It pleased me that it suited his gentle soul and that he himself was glad of it.

Grasping the crook of his elbow, I felt my fingers disappear in the folds of cloth and again took my daily marvel at his size. His hand was large enough to conceal my face, I thought dazedly, dizzy in the cold outside and the fever raging within. I was sick and Gareth's clever, caring eyes saw it before I had ever realized.

"Oh, my dear friend, what would I do without you?" I asked playfully, looking up to him through the whipping wind. Long tendrils of raven hair blew back from his pale brow, shifting like smoke about his dark, searching eyes as he looked down at me. A small, still timid smile cracked his lips as he led the way to the front of the property.

"Question being, madam; what would I ever do without you?" his low, gravelly voice replied in sincere honesty. I tried to laugh but couldn't manage the cold air in my lungs. My feet and legs were so numb from being in the snow…

A stumble sent me to my knees in the ice, my grasp slipping from his arm due to numb fingers. He mumbled my name as he knelt by me, clearly troubled with my gracelessness. Try as I might, I knew he found the fever in my gaze as he searched me for pain. Heaving a sigh, I struggled to my feet again, unsuccessful on the frozen ground.

Without a word, Gareth reached down and effortlessly picked me up, one colossal hand under my legs and the other at my back. Embarrassed and startled, I felt a squeak escape my cold lips and my gaze widened. Perhaps he wasn't quite as gentlemanly as the men at court.

For a blank moment, he looked as though he would drop me from his insecurity. The baffled bemusement and nervousness that crinkled in his confused eyes nearly sent me fumbling for an apology like a blind man groping for his cane. Taking reign of my surprise, I rested a cold hand to his shoulder and smiled.

"Thank you kindly. My legs are terribly unsure in the cold," I reassured as gently as possible to correct my reaction.

_Concern had outweighed my reasoning in the idea to pick up the poor woman from the snow and regret had assaulted me at my action. At her tired grin, I shook that away mentally and continued towards my goal. The angel would be terribly ill if out for much longer, I deduced from her barely concealed worry. Distressed at the creases between her brows, I fairly loped to the house._

_In some fraction of my mind, I enjoyed the sensation of holding the woman to my disfigured form in protection. Perhaps it was a purely human reaction to the opposite sex but I longed to keep her there against my breast, safe from all harm. It was preposterous and silly on my behalf to ponder such things and yet it would not leave me in peace._

_Once the front door was closed, locking in the clean, smoke-scented warmth, I took her directly to the parlor. Gently, I set her by the fire place, eager to revive the little cold fingers and cheeks. Evangeline watched me silently, bemused and benevolent, as I stocked the fire with fresh logs._

_"My lady, the petticoat and boots are still wet with snow. Would you like to remove them?" I inquired, unobtrusively as possible. I did not want to pressure her in any form or make her uncomfortable as I had outside. For a moment, she eyed me in curiosity before complying and unlacing her jacket._

_Despite how vainly I tried, I could not help but watch as she removed the garment, exposing the pale length of her throat and the curve of her collarbone under her blue blouse. In a way, it reminded me of the spring flower stems, fragile seeming and pliant. I wondered how soft her skin was compared to my mass of congealed, twisted flesh. Vaguely infuriated and embarrassed by my musings, I took the wet coat from her and went to hang it to dry._

His black, thinking eyes had caused shivers to run down my spine as I removed my damp jacket, fingers quaking slightly. Goose pimples raced over my skin and I found myself licking my lips for moisture. What it was that I suffered, I could not recognize or understand but it felt primal, dangerous and completely out of my comprehension. It was almost akin to how I had felt on my wedding night but so much more irrational and savage.

Praying Gareth did not notice my disposition, I sat numbly as he went and hung the garment on the drying rack by the front door. My God, he was so immense in size and yet I felt no fear of him. When he had held me out in the cold, his hands were gentle and comforting upon me as a parent's upon an infant. Who was he, I found myself wondering more often. What was his tale to tell?

"My lady, may I make a suggestion?" Gareth's rough, low voice interrupted my musings and brought me back to reality. He stood before me in all his glorious strangeness and I looked up in vague wonder. Distantly, I nodded in response, my mouth still dry from my previous thoughts. "I do not believe you should go into town in your condition."

I smiled faintly, amused and flattered that he was worried about my well being, just as a husband might. But we needed the food and supplies and sick or not, I needed to go and neither could I force him to enter into strangers company for a pound of food.

"Dear Gareth, I am well enough to travel. Do not concern-" I was saying fondly as I stood upon my cold feet. The proximity of the fire had made me light-headed without my realization and a fever rushed over my vision in a wave. Upon my elbow and my spine, I felt his cool, large hands bracing me in concern. Shaking my head, I tried to clasp onto the clarity that I was so proud of.

"Lady Evangeline, I implore you to rest upstairs for the rest of the evening," he rumble of a voice pleaded from above. Unable to shake the queasiness in my stomach and the throbbing that resonated in my skull, I finally nodded in resignation.

"Allow me to make our supper first. Then I shall rest."

_"I can manage our meal tonight, my lady. Truly, I would not eat the repast without regret for your ill labor," I replied as gently as possible. Her state was increasingly worrisome to me and I found it infinitely more frightening than not having a supper. A stain of fever rushed her pale cheeks and a glaze was upon her sight. Under the long folds of her dress, I could see her legs shaking for strength and her hands quaking._

_"Very well, I trust your judgment better than my own at times. Would you lead me upstairs?" she finally acquiesced with a sigh. Grateful that she would now go rest, I grasped her cold hand and laced it through my grotesque arm for support. Carefully and slowly, I led her to the stairs, feeling more and more of her weight relying upon me as we progressed._

_It was just a simple cold, she kept reassuring me whenever she glimpsed my frown. I did not want her to see how it frightened me (considering that I myself have never been sick) but I could not hide it any better than she could hide her fever._

_Upon entering her rooms at the far end of the hall, I found myself once more stunned by the grandeur that she lived in. Over the past few weeks I had grown somewhat accustomed to the soft, colorful furniture and the immense size of her palace but I had yet to come into her rooms. The coverlets upon her bed were of a rich cream color like a glorification of her pale skin, embroidered with elegant floral patterns and lace. A tall, towering mirror stood with a cherry wood vanity and seat, reflecting the falling dance of snow through her floor length windows. A porcelain tub sat behind a dark screen, its burnished clawed feet glittering in the grey light._

_"Thank you for escorting me to my room, dear Gareth. I do not think that I could have handled the stairs alone," she sighed tiredly as she released my gnarled arm and wobbled to the vanity seat. I marveled at the sight of her pale hand upon its burgundy velvet, the contrast sharp and wonderful. Realizing that I was once again staring at her in blatant wonder, I turned to light the small lamp at her bedside, the faint orange glow a bare comfort of light._

_For a moment, she fumbled with the lacing on her bonnet, angling her chin to get better access. Once the damp cap was off, her hair fell in a wet, frayed mess upon her back. The lady now tried to lean down and unlace her boots, back stiff and fingers trembling. Silently, I watched her struggle with the leather lacing, a frown knitted upon her brow and her snow-wetted hair falling over one shoulder._

"Lady? May I help you with your shoes?" Gareth asked quietly from my side. I jumped a bit, nerves sparking, startled, at how close he had come without my realization. How he could move to quickly and silently despite his immense size was awe inspiring. Looking up to his dark, worried gaze I considered his request dimly. The corset under my gown was making it difficult and impossible to bend and reach the lacing. To be honest with myself, I doubted I would be able to remove that either.

Unable to speak from the inertia-induced nausea, I found myself simply nodding in surrender and resting back to his care, the vanity's edge at my back. Gareth kneeled down in front of me, seeming to grow even larger as he did so, dwarfing me in a comforting way.

For a stretch of time in which my mind was rendered dumb, I mused on how my sense of propriety had been dulled since meeting the man. He did cast any preconceived beliefs on what constituted appropriate behavior and I found that more comforting and natural than the stiff regulations of civilization. The only thing that seemed to guide him was his fear for upsetting me and his desire to please. If all of humanity was as such, there would be no wars, I believe.

Nimbly, Gareth's large, blunt fingertips unlaced the strapping upon my boots. He raised my foot to remove it, tenderly sliding it off and replacing my appendage in his lap. I suppose it could have been the fever but the notion that my flesh was resting on his folded loins sent sparks through my veins. After a moment, he removed the other and settled my toes against my other foot.

Upon noticing the thick stocking I wore under the boots, Gareth cast me a questing inquiring look. There was no seduction in his request to remove my clothing and it touched some tender emotion within my breast that he did not think that he could do so to me. Numbly, I nodded and raised my skirts to my knees, rendered speechless by the cautious care in the deep pools of his eyes.

_With quaking, unsure fingers, I reached for the top of the stocking, making sure not to touch her directly and silently marveling at the white softness of her knees. This was far more than I had ever seen of a human woman's form and it was as terrifying as it was enticing. The expression which graced her countenance gave me courage in a strange manner however. The eyes were heavy lidded, glazed, and a half smile quirked her mouth. Her lips were rather pale in comparison with her flushed cheeks but I found them lovely all the same._

_What was I contemplating? I reprimanded myself silently before turning to my task. There was no conceivable way that a woman such as Evangeline could ever look upon me with the same desire I felt. What was this desire? I wondered. Upon meeting her and living with the angel, I had wanted nothing more than to gaze upon her and be in her company. But now, as familiarity grew, I found more and more thoughts growing within me of discovering exactly how soft her flesh was and how fragile she would be in my arms._

_The rough, woolen stockings slid down her leg and she raised the limb a bit so that it slid off her toes gently like so much vulgarity from her skin. Once again, I found my attention grasped by the tiny miracles of her form. The small, curled toes upon her feet seemed so fragile and delicate that I wondered how she never broke them as she walked._

_Caught again in studying her body, I resumed my task, half glad that it was over. I was not sure of what was occurring within me but it concerned me that it grew so quickly._

_"Is that much better, my lady?" was the only question I could formulate adequately. Evangeline nodded a bit distantly, her blue eyes glazed and lost upon studying me. What did she see when she gazed upon such a beast?_

_"Yes, thank you, Gareth," she paused for a moment, her little teeth biting the soft flesh of her lower lip. That diverted my attention once more upon analyzing her and I almost missed her continuation. "I need a bit more help with something else. I do not believe my fingers can handle the corset clasps. Would you be willing to help me?"_

_For a dumb, mute moment, I tried to remember what a corset was. The day I had helped her with the laundry came to mind and I recalled that it was the garment women wore under their dresses. Suddenly cowed by the idea, I found that despite my trepidation, I did want to help her in that way._


	7. Chapter 7

At the look of mixed terror and some darker, more feral emotion, I almost regretted requesting the assistance. It was true however that my hands would not be able to accomplish the task at the moment. Sleeping in the garment would be excessively painful and my pride was not worth the damage.

In a secret part of my heart, I wanted him to help me undress; I wanted to feel those timid, gentle fingers brushing my back as he peeled layers of society off of me. I could not deny it, no matter how it horrified my enforced sensibilities. What sort of woman was I to desire that from a man I was not married to? But again, the thought was abandoned when I considered the situation. What good was propriety in this strange relationship?

"If you require my assistance, then I am happy to oblige, my dear lady," Gareth finally replied in almost a throaty growl. I shuddered at that sound and the intensity in the dark, grey flecked orbs that were his eyes. Silently, he stood up, the movement fluid and graceful, before offering me a hand to my feet.

Standing on bare, cold feet, I turned to face the vanity, looking to him in the reflection as he moved behind me. God, I was so childlike to his size; the very top of my head was the height of his collarbone. Unable to withstand his stare, I lowered my eyes and reached up to lift my hair.

Shaking, timid fingers brushed the back of my neck as he cleared away the stray strands from the metal clasp at the top of the dress. A fluid flame seemed to shoot down my spine and my back arched mindlessly. The touch paused and the silence seemed startled for a moment. Ashamed of my bodies reaction, I meekly kept my gaze to the floor, praying my blush was not evident through the fever.

The clasps were becoming undone in rhythm with my reservations as he progressed, nimbly uncovering the white chemise. The distant sensation of his fingers through my clothes finally stopped at the waist line and the gown crumbled at the collar from lack of support. Slowly, carefully, I slid my arms out from the sleeves, stomach rolling in nervousness and my head pounding.

My breath hitched in my chest as the dress pooled about my trembling legs. The room felt cold upon my bared flesh and I shivered. I risked a glance at the mirror to see Gareth's face hidden in the evening shadows, hair a dark halo about him. He was an angel, I decided shakily, a sad agonized angel with a wounded soul.

Dizzily, I looked away and tried to focus on stepping out of the outer dress. I could not keep my precarious balance as I lifted a weak leg and wavered. Embarrassed and vexed at the sick weakness of my frame, I tried not to show how difficult this simple task was.

Suddenly, colossal, gentle hands grasped above my waist and I found Gareth raising me effortlessly. Stifling a startled, pleased cry I looked back in the mirror and discovered myself three feet off the ground, the white of the under gown seeming ghostly with his grayish hands clasping my middle. I felt rather than saw one of his feet moving aside the troublesome dress before setting me back on quaking feet.

_This was torment, sweet though it might be, I decided as I set the angel back on earth. Evangeline was shivering (from the cold or my touch, I could not tell) and I could see the goose pimpled flesh along her white arms and tilted neck. The woman did not move but rather waited for my guidance in a trusting, childlike way. It pleased me that she trusted me in such a way but that pleasure was only second to gazing at and touching her. _

_Still shaking in my fingers, I reached out and brushed her locks of acorn hair to the side of her neck, out of the way of the constricting corset. The spine arched as it did before and I wondered at why that happened. She did not seem upset by it, leading to the conclusion that she enjoyed the touches. The material of her under dress was thin in comparison to her other clothes, barely covering her upper arms and dipping low in the back._

_The soft angles of her shoulder blades and the pale skin of her back nearly sent me into swoons. How was I being graced with such trust? How did the angel allow this interaction with no show of disgust? The possibility that she welcomed such attentions rose in my mind but I pushed it back quickly; that was preposterous, I tried to remind myself._

_Focusing on her thick, hard corset, I unlaced the top strings, noting how it loosened all along the spine. Taking my time and enjoying the way her body shifted as the clasps were undone, I undid the length of the garment and slid it off her frame._

An utterly panicky and breathless emotion stole over me as the corset was lifted away. I could barely breathe for the forbidden, enticing air that hung in the room. A man other than my deceased husband was seeing, touching me in the dark of the winter evening and I enjoyed it. A stab of guilt syringed my soul but I ignored it for the most part. I wanted no regret and foolishness for our exchanges, whatever they were and might be.

Timidly, I looked back in the darkened, revealing mirror to find Gareth watching me most intently, the corset still in hand. At meeting his dark gaze, I wavered and felt a most severe modesty. I was not beautiful, I knew. I was tolerably lovely enough for marriage but I was not anything more. My nose was too thin and a bit crooked from a childhood accident. My brows were not the elegant arches of the ladies at court and my frame was not slim. My hips were practically nonexistent and poor for child bearing. Now that the bracing support of the corset was removed, my breasts felt too large and not the plump fruits of youth that they used to be.

And yet, he looked at me in such an admiring, yearning way, as if he found me lovelier than anything else. Such an idea induced the strangest sense of calm and affection in me that I could scarce endure it.

"Is that much better, my lady?" he inquired again softly, his tone restraining something in his chest. Nodding, I felt my heart pounding even harder than it had been before and I felt the presence of his gargantuan form behind me. What would it be like to simply meld into that frame? Allow him to fold me into himself and keep me forever in his silence and strength?

_The intimacy of our exchanged stares was quickly becoming more than I could bear. The weight of her blue gaze caused the most painful sensations within me that I could not identify nor withstand. It was akin to the races of pleasure that brushing her skin had induced but so much more powerful and in the very pit of my form._

_Suddenly, her soft, imploring weight was against me and I froze in shock. The angel had turned and embraced me, her frail seeming arms about my waist and her face pressed into the sluggish beat of my heart. Surprised is beyond what I felt at the movement and it took several moments to respond._

_When last she had embraced me, she had been fully clothed and holding me only to her collar in comfort. Now, her entire frame pressed to mine, small and needy hands to my back. Her heat was boiling in a fever, passing through our clothes and overheating my taxed flesh. Against my lower chest, I could feel the soft, enticing forms of her unbound breasts and the realization made the sensations in my being even more tight and unfathomable. _

_What was occurring at the moment? My brain fumbled for an explanation as I put my horrendous limbs about the angel, drawing her even closer to me. She sighed in guilty happiness and nuzzled into my breast, eyes closed and cheeks flushed in sickness._

_After a moment, Evangeline looked up to me from her position, lips soft in thought and eyes gentle. I could barely endure such a look, especially when she released her embrace and wiggled to free herself. I thought that perhaps she was no longer comfortable in my hold but that was not the case. Instead, she raised her arms to me like a child asking to be lifted into the air._

_Leaning down to a degree, my knees shaking like trees in the wind, I wrapped the woman in my arms and shivered at the way her hands rested at the back of my neck like birds. How was this happening? How do I keep this forever? No answer came to comfort me in this._

_Distracted from coherent thought by the scent of her hair and skin, I released a bit of my nervousness and buried my nose by her neck. She shuddered at my breath upon her throat and tightened her clasp upon me. She was enjoying this, I realized a bit dumbly._

_After a moment of elation, I felt her pull back a bit, trying to capture my gaze once more. Almost reluctant to relinquish even a fraction of the hold, my arms loosened enough to allow her to lean back, the small of her back against my forearms. The blue of her eyes seemed darkened in some intensity and she licked her lips, wetting them with her spit. Blankly, I wondered what her spit tasted of. Was it like my own or was it sweeter?_

_Evangeline's slow movements drew my complete attention once more. She was impossibly close to my scarred face and I fretted that I would disgust her with my hideousness. Then there was the tender, soft feel of lips to my cheek, pressing gently to the scar that ran from my lip._

I suppose I could say that I was not aware of what I was doing or that I had not contemplated my actions but it would be a lie. I knew what I was doing and no internal guilt will change that. His mouth was too tempting an offer, I chose his cheek. I was terrified of kissing him on that most intimate of openings to the soul.

Under my lips, I could feel the deep groove the scar, soft and puckered around the edges and the barest corner of his full, dark mouth. The huge arms about me loosened hazardously as he stood in stunned amazement.

Lifting away, I placed another small kiss under the first, cherishing the sharp curve of his jaw. It was then that he regained his embrace, tightening the hold so that I might never slip free of him. Gareth was so much more than a man, I thought in a haze as I kissed close to his ear, dark lashes against my own. He was something beyond my comprehension and understanding with his stillness, his silence and his great, scarred, beautiful soul.

I felt that if I did not expose this revelation, I should die.

"You are so beautiful, my Gareth," I whispered in his ear like a private confesssion. He stilled at my breath upon his ear and held his breath, clearly startled. The midnight strands of hair tickled my face but I buried into it like a pillow.

"My lady?" he breathed in bated, quiet confusion. I sighed at his disbelief and repeated it in his attentive ear, lips brushing his cheek. Gareth released me then, holding me out from his protective form and studying me in silent turmoil. I had not meant to upset him and after witnessing his expression, I realized that it was not anger in him.

The corners of his tempting mouth turned at the ends in thought and a soft yet thunderous frown crinkled his pale brow. He wanted to believe me, I could see that, but he did not know how to.

Reaching up slowly, I watched the flicker of disquiet in those depthless, night eyes and cupped his cheek in my palm. Against my fingers brushed his dark hair and I could not resist burying them into in like midnights soothing blackness.

"You are beautiful, Gareth."

_This lovely apparition of a woman in white was going to be the death of me, I decided in a haze when she repeated her statement for a third time. My heart broke inside me at her kindness and she saw that somehow; just as she seemed to see everything in my breast. The feel of her fingers brushing my gnarled hair from my brow left my knees weak and I could not speak._

_A small, reassuring smile quirked the ends of her mouth and she once more kissed my chin with her hand still on cheek. No tears came to grace me and I was glad for it. I did not feel like laughing or crying; I was far beyond that. I needed silence and solitude to piece this together and grasp the meaning of her words and actions._

_An upset look had come over Evangeline and I hastened to correct her impression of my silence. Timidly reaching out, I cupped her face in both of my hideous hands, noting how very alive she seemed next to my flesh. How delicate she felt. How she found me beautiful, I could not grasp, especially upon seeing my long, monstrous fingers. And yet she did not fight me; no, she leaned into my palm, her cheek tiny against it and kissed the pad of flesh there._

_Still quaking horribly at her touches, I leaned forward enough to kiss her forehead, cherishing the smooth, hot skin under my torn lips. The woman shivered and sighed in appreciation, her eyes fluttering closed as I moved away. She had enjoyed my kiss, I celebrated in the back of my thinking mind. For some reason, I was vaguely amazed that she had not died. It was childish but I had been worried that such a thing from me would be poisonous._

_Releasing her face, I took her sweaty small hand in my own paw and led her to the bed. She looked as thought was going to protest but silenced her desires. Pulling back the thick, feather-down covers, I gave her a hand onto the sheets and covered her to her chin. Evangeline had an almost visible question upon her mind but she restrained herself admirably as I tucked the blankets about her small body and fluffed her pillows. She smiled wearily instead as I fussed, amused and content with the attention I was devoting to her comfort. _

"_Rest now, my Evangeline, while I prepare supper," I recommended softly over the lump in my throat. She nodded obediently, despite the apparent sadness of my leaving, her flushed face framed by the mess of brown-red locks. Leaning down in half, I placed one last cherishing kiss upon her brow, delighted and frightened at how much I enjoyed doing so. _


End file.
